


Bruised but not broken

by kiki_92



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Fanart, Kapkan is bad at feelings, Kapkan is having a bad day, Kissing, M/M, it starts pretty light and it gets a bit darker at the end, no beta we die like (wo)men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:28:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23159299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiki_92/pseuds/kiki_92
Summary: Kapkan is having a bad day, or more accurately, this is the last one in a series of bad days in a row. When questioned about his strange mood by his partner, Kapkan's reaction is not what neither of them expected.Choose your own ship for the ending! The first chapter is the main action of the story, and the subsequent two chapters are two possible endings depending on which ship you prefer.
Relationships: Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Alexsandr "Tachanka" Senaviev, Maxim "Kapkan" Basuda/Timur "Glaz" Glazkov
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	1. Main action of the story

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by [this piece](https://twitter.com/jeff_kapkan/status/1237906519871631360) from the amazingly talented [Jeff_Kapkan](https://twitter.com/jeff_kapkan) on Twitter! <3
> 
> It also serves as a celebration of sorts, since it was on this day two years ago I posted my first story here! I tried something a little different with this story, and since I couldn't decide on the ship, I tried to make a "choose your own ending" sort of thing, as well as making both ending fragments their own separate feel/personality (I hope!)

Some days were just cursed. Kapkan wasn’t particularly superstitious, but he would readily admit that sometimes people had streaks of bad luck. At the moment, he had been facing one of those episodes for nearly a week. 

He could count with the fingers of one hand the amount of training matches he won during this time and still had fingers to spare. Whether he was taken out first or failed to clutch situations that should have been an assured win, Kapkan’s mood had been getting progressively darker as the days went by. It wasn’t only the matches, though. Sparring had gone badly these days too. 

Kapkan knew he had a problem underestimating his own strength and his opponent’s, like that time long ago when he accidentally cut Finka’s face, something that still brought a hot weight of remorse in his stomach every time he thought about it.That one wasn’t the only sparring accident Kapkan had been involved in, but he thought he’d gotten better at it. Until this last week. In just a few days he dislocated Thermite’s shoulder, broke Fuze’s nose, and terrified everyone who got paired up with him for sparring.

If he had to pinpoint the lowest point of these days, though, Kapkan would say it was the training match that just happened. It was the reason he was brooding on a corner, looking out of the window and considering if he should take a vacation or make sure that nobody had cursed him as revenge for something. He was usually good at his job; that was a fact, not bragging. Kapkan preferred to act alone, but he was a team player, he knew how to help the team and still secure some kills. Not this time. They went for seven rounds and all he did was die again and again, each time in more ridiculous ways than before.

The first ‘death’ had been an unfortunate accident. He was checking the cameras too close to one of his traps, and when Montagne went through, he survived, but Kapkan didn’t. Embarrassing, but not the first time that something like that happened. It only went downhill from there. Killing himself with his own C4, losing a knife fight against Iana of all people! Utterly humiliating. He was one of the best operators, if not the best, in close quarters combat, and the Dutch woman was tiny and more inclined to spend her time with Mira in the workshop than training!

Decided to do better, because that was a wake up call that he needed to get his shit together and fast, Kapkan pushed himself to be more aggressive. In his attempt at chasing a distracted attacker, he vaulted through a shoddy rotation hole and realised he was stuck. No matter how much he squirmed, all Kapkan got for his efforts were some wooden splinters digging into his sides and alerting the person he had been following. To add insult to injury, he needed help to get out of the damned hole, Bandit’s snickering in the background making him question why he was friends with the German. 

With a sore body and ego, Kapkan made a better job the next round. At least for a while. It was the last minute and he was the only remaining defender, and Kapkan thought this was his time to shine. Knowing the two attackers were on a certain corridor, he went to make a punch hole in the wall and wait for them. He was inches away from the wall when Sledge’s hammer obliterated it, hitting Kapkan in the process. Pain bloomed in his face and he blindly staggered backwards. He could hear people talking, but couldn’t pick up the exact words for a moment. After a couple of seconds, reality stopped being reduced to the flare of hot pain around his eye, although blinking was still highly unpleasant.

“Are you okay lad?” Sledge was planted in front of him, looking concerned yet unsure of reaching out to help Kapkan get up. “Should we fetch Doc?”

He could still see, albeit everything was a little blurry, so Kapkan considered there was nothing to worry about. “I’m fine.”

“Your eye…” Rook winced at having Kapkan’s murderous glare directed at him. “Maybe you should get some ice on it?”

“I said I’m fine!” Kapkan’s temper was flaring up, angry at being treated with pity like he was a weakling. He had much worse than a blow to the eye! Besides, all he needed to sooth his bruises was winning just once. “Stop talking and let’s get on with the match.”

The only positive thing of all this clusterfuck was that, despite his apparent incompetence, both teams were actually pretty tied, so there was no clear winner yet. On second thought, Kapkan wasn’t sure it was such a good thing, perhaps it would be better for him to be done with this as fast as possible and go lick his wounds, both the literal ones and the metaphorical wounds too. But he went on, because the match wasn’t over. For the next round, Bandit started following him around, much to Kapkan’s irritation, and treating him like he was blind almost.

“Careful with the barbed wire, to your left! The door’s up ahead and then the corridor. There’s a pile of-”

“I can see that by myself!” Kapkan hissed, fed up with his friend’s ‘help’.

“Really? You could have fooled me with the way you keep closing that eye. Or maybe you’re winking at me? You flatter me Maxim, but I know you’re taken and I’m not a home-wrecker!” Bandit laughed at his own joke, since Kapkan didn’t.

“Do your job and I’ll do mine, I don’t need you hovering over me like a fucking babysitter.”

Bandit had the cheek of grabbing his arm and trying to drag him around like he was a toddler, so Kapkan, annoyed beyond reason, yanked his arm away and took a few steps back. As he immediately discovered, there was an open hatch right behind him, which was most probably why Bandit had tried to pull him away from the area. Falling down a floor and landing on his ass was not ideal, but the worst part was the claymore that some idiot had left lying around and detonated as soon as Kapkan fell, covering him in a fine powder.

The last time Kapkan felt so out of his depth and clumsy was when he was a fresh recruit in the Ministry of Internal Affairs; this was most frustrating. When Bandit poked his head through the hatch and said, “Dude, didn’t you see that?” Kapkan answered in Russian with a rather rude selection of swears. It was good to let out all of his anger, yet it did nothing to relieve the stress he felt at his current streak of fuck-ups.

The last round came soon, and Kapkan decided against roaming this time, if only to avoid having Bandit sticking to him like before since teamkilling because someone was annoying you was heavily frowned upon. He set all his traps and then went back to the objective, chilling in a corner and waiting for an attacker to show up. Everything was going so well, then he heard it. The unmistakable sound of an airjab being fired and sticking into a surface. He couldn’t see where it was but, judging from the noise, it landed close to him.

Not even three seconds later, Mozzie came running after one of Twitch’s drones and triggered the airjab. Both Kapkan and Mozzie -and the drone- went flying, and that was the moment Kapkan knew he was done for in this round too. There was a cracking sound as he collided against a wooden wall with his back, breaking through it. However, that was an exterior wall, so Kapkan didn’t land on a different room, no; he landed outside, in a muddy puddle. 

At least it was all on the same floor height, Kapkan supposed it was a small mercy this hadn’t happened last round, when they were defending the top floor of the building. Before he could even regain his breath, cause the impact knocked the wind out of his lungs, something hit his side, right over his sore ribs.

_ “Operator Kapkan out,” _ the speakers blared, letting everyone know his fate.

He let his head fall back on the mud, looking at the cloudy sky and feeling the puddle soak his clothes. This had been, without a doubt, the worst training match of his life.


	2. Glaz/Kapkan ending

Fifteen minutes later, after refusing yet again going to Doc, Kapkan sequestered himself in the Spetsnaz dorms, shedding away his muddy and soaked Gorka before wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and sitting down to think. He felt tired, not just from training but on an intangible level as well. If he listened to his most selfish thoughts, he’d hide under the blanket and sleep for days. It was a tempting idea, especially taking into account how little he slept lately, always waking up in the middle of the night and taking ages to fall asleep again. Perhaps that was why he was struggling to keep up.

Kapkan knew it was the most probable reason, and that he just needed to stop pressuring himself so much, yet another part of him thought that explanation was a little too convenient. Maybe he was just desperately grasping at straws to not admit he was just not doing enough, that he was growing soft and complacent. The sunny day outside was at odds with his increasingly dark mood, but to Kapkan it was just a reminder of how the world tried to appear less shitty than it really was. 

The door of the dorms opened but Kapkan ignored it. Whoever it was, they were just observing him in silence, but Kapkan didn’t feel like saying anything. “A little bird told me you were probably moping in your room, seems he was right.”

Must have been Bandit, the bastard couldn’t keep his mouth shut and let Kapkan be. He didn’t turn around to talk to Glaz, still staring through the window at nothing in particular as he said tiredly, “I’m not moping.”

“That’s not what it looks like,” Glaz’s voice was light and joking, yet when Kapkan didn’t answer him, he got closer. “Maxim?”

He turned around to look at him, sighing despondently, but before he could ask Glaz what the hell he wanted, the sniper’s hand was on Kapkan’s face. The palm cradled his jaw and the thumb softly caressed the edges of the bruise around his eye. Kapkan closed both of them, unable to look at Glaz’s face right now, not while he was touching him so gently. It brought up too many emotions, and he didn’t even know what some of them were.

“Are you okay?” 

Glaz was so close, he could smell that stupid aftershave the sniper started to use just because Kapkan said he liked it. Any other day, he would have closed the small distance between them and kissed him, but today Kapkan turned his face to the side, away from Glaz’s comforting touch. “I’m fine.”

Silence. He had the inkling that Glaz didn’t believe him. The sniper’s usually soothing presence was agitating Kapkan more instead. “You’ve been acting odd lately.”

“I said I’m fine,” Kapkan hissed, glaring at Glaz as if defying him to contradict him again.

The sniper crossed his arms, not backing down. “I know you’re barely sleeping and yet you push yourself harder than ever. And you’ve been closed off and avoiding to spend time with Dominic and Jordan and Sasha… and me.”

Kapkan was still holding Glaz’s gaze defiantly, but the sheer concern in his lover’s face broke his anger, turning it into guilt instead. Glaz sat down on the bed, next to him, and grabbed his hand. “Let me help you. Please.”

Every psychology book ever agreed that opening up and sharing his burdens would be good for him, but Kapkan wasn’t even sure how to articulate his vague worries and general sense of unease. He opened his mouth then closed it again, trying to find the right words and failing. It was silly, nothing he should bother Glaz with, but the sniper hadn’t left yet, despite Kapkan’s continued silence. It would be companionable, if it wasn’t for how oppressive it felt, so unlike the easy silences they shared other times. Desperate to say something, because he knew Glaz was waiting for an explanation that was most likely not coming, Kapkan said the first thing that crossed his mind.

“The Beslan anniversary is in three days, did you know?” The realisation hit him harder than Sledge’s hammer. Fuck. The reason for his troubles sleeping and being focused had been on the back of his mind all this time, yet he didn’t notice until now. “Some years I... it just hits me unexpectedly, that’s all.”

Glaz dragged the hunter close and enveloped him in a tight hug, rubbing his back comfortingly. Kapkan instinctively closed his eyes and relaxed, shifting slightly so they were pressed even closer. He could feel Glaz’s heartbeat faintly against his chest and for a moment he felt calm and in peace.

“It will pass, and you’ll get through it.” That was true, but knowing something not always translated into making him feel better. However, hearing Glaz whisper the words against his skin with so much conviction made Kapkan smile a little.

“What would I do without you.”

“Well, you’d still be brooding.” 

Kapkan backed away from the hug just enough to look at Glaz. He hadn’t been joking, and something in his expression gave him away, since Glaz sighed.

“I know. Just don’t shut me out like this next time,” Glaz brought up one of his hands to hold the back of Kapkan’s neck, then he kissed him. It was a quick press of their lips, innocent yet filled with so much emotion. It was over as quickly as it began, Glaz resting their foreheads together. “I only want to see you happy, love.”

Unable to trust his voice and feeling an uncomfortable knot in his chest, Kapkan nodded before crashing against Glaz in a hug again. There was something about being held by Glaz that eased all those troublesome thoughts plaguing his mind, and Glaz seemed more than happy to provide.

“Why is your  _ telnyashka  _ damp?” Glaz’s hands were under the blanket covering him, and while the contact of his hands on Kapkan’s skin was more than welcome, it appeared Glaz had some questions.

“It’s a long story…”


	3. Tachanka/Kapkan ending

After a nice, warm shower, his body didn’t ache as badly, except for his face. However, none of his physical discomforts was worrying Kapkan. It was his dismal performance. No matter how hard he tried, Kapkan could have sworn he was doing worse and worse with each passing day.

It didn’t help that he was constantly tired, day after day, struggling to keep up with whatever was going on around him. Kapkan was sure he would feel much better after a good night’s rest, if he could get one. Lately he barely slept more than three or four hours each night, the rest of the time he lay there looking at the ceiling and being angry at himself for failing even at something so easy as sleeping. How could he be part of an elite counterterrorist group if he couldn’t even keep properly awake and alert during the day? There was this kind of haze keeping him apart from everything else, dulling his senses. If this kept up soon he’d be worse than Jackal. 

He knew most people would have confided in a friend, or even with their doctor, about the situation. However, Kapkan did not. It was a minor thing, not worth bothering any of his friends and teammates with how he couldn’t sleep much for the last days. It was nothing special. Besides, if Harry got wind of that he would insist on Kapkan visiting Doc and that was a hassle he wanted to avoid, same as getting sleeping meds. He didn’t want to rely on some pills just to take a nap.

After a perceived eternity, he finally reached the Spetsnaz dorms. Kapkan wasn’t sure of what he wanted to do, he just knew he wanted to be alone. Unfortunately, his plans were doomed from the start.

“There you are!” Tachanka greeted him enthusiastically. Any of the warmth he normally felt upon seeing the older defender was... not absent, but severely muted. Tachanka didn’t seem to notice his lack of enthusiasm. “What happened to your face?”

“The training match was a mess,” Kapkan sighed, sitting down on his bed. 

“That explains the long face. C’mon, Lera brought kvass and she, the boys, and Flament are playing cards in the rec room.”

“I’m tired, Sasha,” Kapkan rubbed his face, only to suck in a pained breath when he touched the tender area around the eye. “I’ll stay here.”

Wrong answer. Instead of letting him be, Tachanka stared at Kapkan like he was a rare specimen he wanted to study. “What’s going on with you, Maxim? Lately all you’ve done is brood, train until you’re about to pass out, and avoid people.”

It was a perfectly normal question. In fact, if the situation was reversed, Kapkan would ask the same, he knew that. And yet he bristled at what he perceived to be either an invasive question or, worse, an accusation. 

“I. Don’t. Brood,” Kapkan spat out with disdain. “I’m perfectly fine! Or I would be if people stopped asking me constantly what the fuck is wrong with me!”

He should have known Tachanka wouldn’t be impressed nor cowed by his outburst. “Cut the crap  _ princess _ . We’ve been partners for years before we even started fucking, I know when you’re lying.”

“Why do you always have to push and push, huh? Maybe I just want some peace because you keep bothering me, did you think about that?”

The regret was instantaneous. He hadn’t meant any of that, but the words hung heavy between them. For a terrible moment he thought Tachanka would do exactly that, turn around and leave. The idea only made Kapkan more anxious than he already was, although he couldn’t pinpoint why. An unbearable silence stretched between them, but thankfully Tachanka remained right there in front of him. Waiting for an explanation, or perhaps an apology. 

Kapkan remained shamefully tongue tied, struggling to find what he wanted to say. He never meant to pick up a fight with Tachanka, and despite his actions, he desperately wanted the other man to stay by his side.

“You said you’re tired, yes?” Latching onto that explanation like a lifeline, Kapkan nodded sheepishly. “You’re always more of an asshole when you’re cranky and tired.”

That was well deserved. Tachanka didn’t look angry at him though, and he lay down on the bed, sideways, patting the small empty space next to him. “Come.”

Hesitating only for a moment, Kapkan crawled next to him, wanting to show Tachanka he wasn’t cross with him despite what he previously said. Tachanka’s arms curled over him, blanketing Kapkan from the rest of the world and bringing him closer to Tachanka’s chest. He felt safe, and for the first time in days, the hunter allowed himself to relax.

Tachanka ran his fingers gently over Kapkan’s cheek, the rough and warm feeling of the digits on his skin making Kapkan close his eyes in bliss. Tachanka’s thumb traced invisible lines around the side of his face and neck, up and down, and Kapkan forgot why he had been so angry and ready to fight before. He was a fool, fucking up at the match wasn’t enough, he seemed intent on trying to fuck up the best thing that happened to him too.

“I’m not mad at you, Sasha. I don’t know why I said that.” Kapkan burrowed closer to Tachanka’s chest, as if he was trying to hide. “I don’t even know why I’m so angry all the time.”

“It’s almost September,” Tachanka said, as if that explained anything. Kapkan made a questioning noise, waiting for Tachanka to elaborate, since the soft caresses on his face had effectively shut down his brain. “You always get moody around September. Used to be worse when we first met, and the last two years it was barely noticeable, but...”

Oh. Was it really so simple? He was an idiot for not having realised sooner. “The Beslan anniversary is in three days.”

He had an inkling that Tachanka already knew that. As all answer, Tachanka moved his arm to put it under the hunter’s neck, as if it was a pillow. In this position, the tip of his nose brushed against Kapkan’s hairline, and the kiss on his forehead was unbearably tender. It felt like a blessing.

“Get some sleep,  _ princess _ , I know you spend most of the nights awake and you need your beauty rest.”

Kapkan didn’t protest, not at the commanding tone nor at the use of the accursed pet name. All he felt was immense relief, and the comfort of having Tachanka wrapped around him was actually quite helpful for making his jumbled thoughts calm down. Besides, Tachanka was right. And if he couldn’t fall asleep, spending time in Tachanka’s arms was the next best thing, or perhaps even better.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://r6shippingdelivery.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/kikipeachywitch)!


End file.
